j^j| '
ISSUED SEMI-WEEKLY.
l. m. grist's sohs, Pubiuher.. [ % dfamilj Newspaper: 4|or the promotion of the political, JSoqiat, JJjriqultupl and <Kommn;riat interests o|T the people. {TgKiaSui^^op"HBvilc*lm*NCg^
ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKVILLE, 8. C., TUESDAY, JULY 17, 1906. ISTO. 57.
THE
A Story of the Timei
Alexander
BY JERE
CHAPTER X?Oo NT I N'lTBD.
Colonel Burr was not yet ready for
active operations against the enemy.
He wished first to accustom his men
to the restraints of a wholesome discipline,
as weil as to make his own po
sitlon perfectly secure in every respect.
For this latter purpose he established
a system of sleepless vigilance,
and organized a corps of patrols
and videttes so effective that it was
impossible for a party of British troops
to move In any direction without his
Immediate knowledge. In this he was
greatly aided by the country people,
who, satisfied that they had at last
found a protector, repaid him tenfold
by freely and promptly communicating
every species of information that
might aid his operations.
In numerous encounters with small
parties of the enemy, Colonel Bunhad
a fair opportunity of testing the
mettle of his men, and he was gratified
by observing that they feared no
danger and counted no odds when he
was their leader. As soon as he w-as
fully satisfied that they could be reIn
onv nmarapnnv hc? rP?JOlVP(i
to employ them on a more dangerous
service than any In which they had
yet been engaged. - In the lower part of
the country the British had erected a
block-house as a rallying point for
their foraging and plundering parties;
this, again, was protected by a strong
body of several thousand troops, posted
some two or three miles off. To
. destroy this block-house would be to
deprive them of a safe and convenient
place of retreat, and increase the danger
of their forays to such an extent
as to make It probable they would be
abandoned altogether. He had, according
to his custom carefully inquired
about it, and only waited for a dark
and rainy night to put in execution the
plan he had formed. It was not long
before the weather proved as propitious
as he could desire, and, selecting forty
men, properly equipped and Instructed,
just after nightfall he began his march
for the scene of action. At 2 o'clock
In the morning he arrived in the vicinity
of the blockhouse. Here he divided
his force into two parties the one
commanded by Capt. Black, to whom
his Instructions had been previously
communicated, and the other by himself.
The garrison was burled In sleep
and the shivering sentinels were more
intent upon protecting themselves from
the bitter blasts of a northern winter
than in looking out for an enemy of
whose presence they did not dream.
Suddenly the thick darkness was illuminated
by flashes of light, and loud
and clear rang a voice upon the
night air, "Charge, and smoke the
murdering bandits from their den!"
There was a simultaneous rush, short
ladders were planted against the block
house, showers of hand-grenades were
poured through the port-holes, and the
drowsy garrison started from their
slumbers to find themselves surrounded
on all sides by fire. The assault had
been too sudden and too well planned
to admit of resistance, and the Brit
ish soldiers, instead of flying to their
arms, yelled lustily for quarter. This
was at once granted, the prisoners secured,
and a rapid retreat commenced.
The ruddy hue painted upon the heavens
by the burning block-house gave
early notice at the British camp of the
danger of their friends, and a strong
body of horse, followed by another of
Infantry, was dispatched without delay
to their assistance. But long before
they could reach the scene, their enterprising
foe, with all his prisoners, was
safe beyond the reach of pursuit. A
heap of burning coals and blackened
stones greeted ineir arrival, out no
human being was left to point out the
pathway of the destroyer.
The next day Colonel Burr sent up
his prisoners to General McDougall,
and received in return the warm plaudits
of his veteran commander. To the
common soldiers he had now become
an idol. His unwearied exertions to
procure them shoes, blankets, and other
comforts, his tender solicitude for
the sick and wounded, the unvarying
urbanity of his deportment, and his
perfect readiness to endure whatever
he required others to undergo, created
an enthusiastic love for his person
that was only surpassed by their unbounded
confidence in his military
abilities. The very strictness of the
discipline he enforced made his other
qualities stand prominently out on the
canvas, and they respected and loved
him the more from the fact that they
dared not trlfie with his orders. Brave
men they could find anywhere?humane
men, though not so abundant
? ?= n" r-irltv It was the unio.i
of courage and humanity, animated by
tireless activity, and regulated by the
highest intelligence, that seized upon
their affections, and, to their eyes, invested
the young officer with the attributes
of a demigod.
The capture of the block-house was
soon followed by an enterprise upon a
larger scale. Governor Tryon, of house
burning memory, came out of New
York at the head of two thousand men.
His main object was to destroy certain
salt-works on Long Island sound,
but coupled with this he had it in view
to drive off cattle, and indulge his
men generally in their favorite recreation
of robbery and murder. Colonel
Burr, though far inferior in the num
ber of men he could prudently withdraw
from their posts, determined to
make the governor pay for his amusement.
A messenger was accordingly
dispatched to General Putnam, who
was nearer to the enemy than himself
advising that officer of his intention to
get into Tryon's rear and compel him
to give battle or surrender. At the
same time he earnestly requestd the
general to make such demonstrations
In front as would draw Tryon's attention
from his own movements, and facilitate
the object he had In view. By
means of false information, the British
succeeded in misleading General Putnam
as to the object and direction of
their march, and instead of complying
with the request of Colonel Burr, he
IVALS.
s of Aaron Burr and
1 Hamilton.
CLEMENS.
sent back his courier to communicate
to Burr the supposed fact that Tryon
had turned off toward Connecticut.
Chnnirlnir tho dirArlinn of his own col
umn. Burr followed, as he imagined, in
pursuit; but he had not gone far before
he ascertained certainly that General
Putnam had been Imposed upon.
Without a moment's hesitation the
faces of his men were again turned toward
the Sound. About nightfall, after
a long and fatiguing march, he
came up with the British r?ar. Inferior
in numbers, and wearied as his own
men were, he allowed no time for repose,
but at once led them on to the
attack. The conflict was short. Governor
Tryon was thoroughly alarmed
by the boldness and impetuosity of the
onset, and thought more of escaping
than of fighting. In haste and disarray
he retired from the field, abandoning
all the plunder he had collected, and
leaving many prisoners in the hands
of the conqueror.
The military career of Colonel Burr
was now drawing to a close. The disease
contracted by his exposure on the
field of Monmouth had terminated in
a confirmed and settled malady, under
the debilitating effects of which he
was rapidly sinking. Heretofore the
regularity and abstemiousness of his
habits had been of essential service in
enabling him to undergo the hardships
he imposed upon himself, but constant
exposure, In spite of all the precautions
of prudence, did its work at last.
The opening of spring, to which he had
looked for his probable restoration to
health brought with it increased debUity,
and he became painfully conscious
that he was no longer able to
discharge his duty in the manner to
which he had been accustomed, and in
which he would alone consent to discharge
it. On the 10th of March, 1779,
with deep regret, and after long hesitation,
he transmitted his resignation to
the commander-in-chief.
No one ever left the service of his
country under circumstances more
creditable to him, as an officer and as
a man, than did Colonel Burr. He
found upon the lines of Westchester a
discontented, disorderly and demoralized
rabble, who hid behind their intrenchments
at every appearance of a
British force; who made no distinction,
in their marauding expeditions, between
friend or foe; and plundered, indiscriminately,
the unoffending and the
guilty. In a short time he converted
them Into a well behaved, disciplined,
almost invincible corps. Not once did
the enemy approach his lines without
being met and repulsed; not one soldier
deserted his standard; not one was
made prisoner during the whole period
of his command. It was his pride to
teach them that a soldier, with arms
In his hands, had no apology for surrendering.
He found a distracted and
bleeding people, shivering at every
blast, and trembling at every unusual
noise, in fearful expectation that the
robber and the spoiler had come to
take away the little they had left?hating
the Continentals as cordially as
the redcoats, since both oppressed them
alike, and murdering with equal satisfaction
the one or the other, whenever
a. safe opportunity occurred. He left
them secure in their persons and property?sleeping
as peacefully within
hearing of the enemy's guns as if they
were a hundred miles removed?devoted
to the Republican cause, and zealously
exerting themselves to promote
il. rat* iuuiiu me cuumry uverruu uy
British emissaries and British spies,
who kept the British general in New
York continually advised of every
movement of the Americans above, and
enabled him to strike whenever and
wherever our troops were least prepared
to receive him. These emissaries
were detected and punished with such
unerring certainty, that, in a brief
while, no reward could induce one of
them to venture beyond the British
posts. The enemy's sources of information
were thus entirely cut off, and
they were kept in such total ignorance
that they dared not hazard a movement
of the least importance. To show
the difficulties over which Colonel Burr
had triumphed, it is only necessary to
state that Major Hall, an excellent officer,
who succeeded him in the command,
was compelled in less than one
month, to fall back many miles, to be
t? .1 I In
111 .^uppui iiiik uisiaiicr ui uic <ii iiij m
the Highlands. Colonel Thompson, who
was sent to command the same lines,
was surprised, taken prisoner, and his
forces dispersed or captured. Colonel
Greene was also surprised, himself and
Major Flagg killed, and the greater
part of his troops taken prisoners. No
one could maintain the position before
Colonel Burr took the command?no
one did maintain it afterwards. The
laurels githerel on this, the last field
of his military labors, abided with him
through ife, and. in the darkest period
of his fjrtunes, one of the bitterest
of his revilers twas forced to testify
that a soldier could nowhere find a
leader who would be more certain to
conduct him to honor and renown.
General Washington reluctantly accepted
his resignation. No one valued
Pnlnnol Rnrr an nffln^r nwirp hicrhlv
than he did, and it is well known that
he regarded his retirement as a public
calamity. His letter, accepting the resignation,
contains expressions which
the perfect sincerity of the man invests
with a meaning not usual in such
correspondence. It Is dated at Middlebrook,
April 3rd 1779, and, after briefly
stating his acceptance of his resignation.
conveys to Colonel Burr the expression
of the general's deep sorrow
for the cause which rendered that resignation
necessary, and his equally
deep regret that the country was to
be deprived of the services of such an
officer at such a time.
CHAPTER XI.
"Alas; the love of woman! it is known
To be a lovely and a fearful thing
For all of theirs upon that die is
thrown.
And if 'tis lost, life hath no more to
bring
To them but mockeries of the past
alone."
Colonel Burr was now free. Four
years' service in the armies of his
country had broken his health and seriously
impaired his fortune. Liberal to
profusion; his purse was always open
to his fellow-soldiers, and those were
times when the most fastidious were
frequently compelled to ask and accept
pecuniary favors. In many cases he
advanced sums of money to his acquaintances
when he could not have
had the most distant hope of repayment.
He was now poor, his constitution
shattered, and the pathway to military
renown closed against him; but
the heaviest blow was yet to come. A
I few days before his final departure
I from his lines of Westchester, an offl- i
cer came In with a flag, to treat for
the exchange* of prisoners. Through
that medium he received a letter from
Margaret Moncrleffe. I
"I know not when this will reach I
you," she wrote, "or, Indeed, whether i
your eyes will ever rest upon these
pages: but I should go mad If I did 1
not make the attempt to convey to you
some knowledge of what I feel and <
suffer. For many months I have submitted
to the cruel silence imposed i
upon us. For many months I have 1
submitted to the harsh injunction that <
bade me hold no Intercourse with my i
father's enemy, however little that 1
father was entitled to a daughter's '
obedience. Even now that silence 1
would remain unbroken, if an unnatur- |
al tyranny over the affections had not <
doomed me to become the bride of an- i
other. In surrendering everything else,
I reserved to myself the sad luxury of <
addressing a farewell letter to the Idol- i
ized being to whom my virgin vows <
were plighted, and who now holds su- I
preme dominion over my heart. I did i
not wish you to learn first, through I
the veracious report of a bribed news- |
paper, that on such a day Margaret <
Moncrleffe became a happy bride. It 1
will come to you In due time, though i
the hour for the sacrifice has not yet
been decided; but It soon will be, and
soon after that you may expect to read
the fulsome announcement of a 'marriage
In high life.' I shall be represented,
no doubt, as young and lovely,
my cheek blooming, and my heart
overflowing with happiness. The Jewels
that adorn, and the flowers that decorate
me for the occasion, will claim
a place In the description, and perhaps,
suggest a simile to enliven It
When you read the sickening details,
distrust them all, except the bitter
truth that I have otTered up myself as
a victim to gratify parental pride and
parental avarice. Believe, that at the
very moment I take upon me the solemn
obligations of a wife, my soul
will be dwelling with you. That, though
the fitting words may be spoken, and
the trembling form sustain itself unsupported,
even at the altar's foot, the
gorgeous pageant, the decorated cathe.
dral, and the mitred abbot who performs
the ceremony will be unheeded,
and far away over the broad Atlantic
will rise un the olatn and humble
dwelling??beneath whose shelter we
first met, and In the veranda?upon
whose roof we poured Into each other's
ears those burning sentences that
will live through the long eternity of
ages In which the soul Is destined to
suffer or rejoice. The body may be
purchased, bargained, bartered for, like
cattle In the market; or It may be
driven unresisting as a lamb to the
shambles; but the heart acknowledges
no transfer of title and scorns alike
the gold of the trader and the power
of the tyrant. That heart Is yours,
and oh, what a mockery will be the
marriage rite that binds me to another!
How deep and damning Its perjury!
How loathsome its fruits! Do
you shudder, my own love, at the dismal
horrors before me? I, too, shuddered
once, but I have looked upon
them until I am calm?calm as the lost
wretch who knows that he has descended
to the lowest depth and quivered
through the deadliest agony. I have
even ceased to look forward Into the
future, and speculate upon the consequences
that may flow from the gnawing
misery of being chained to a husband
I detest. Hope was hidden in the
bottom of Pandora's box, and when the
thousand ills that it contained flew
shrieking from its open lid, the gentle
goddess followed on glittering wings
and dropped a charm for every woe.
More terrible than hers, my marriage
gift contains no promised gladness to
relieve its present sorrow. What have
I to expect on earth when every chord
that thrills to the touch of joy is
broken? and how dare I look for consolation
to the Heaven whose holiest
laws I have profaned? Profaned at
the bidding of an earthly parent?
trampled under foot, that the poor
customs of society might be unbroken.
Yet I, who feel and writhe under?I,
who know the dark penalties that wait i
on obedience to the unnatural demand, i
have not the resolution to burst the '
shackles that encircle me and firmly i
assert the body's right to follow where
the heart has gone before.
"Pity me, for I am very weak! For- 1
give me, for I am very wretched! And I
oh do not scorn me, no matter what 1
tale may be borne to your distant home J
of the vlleness of one who loved, who
loves, and who will love you with a
fervor compared to which idolatry is '
cold and tame! With you by my side,
I should be contented as the tenant of '
the humblest hut in America. The
toils and hardships that the poorest '
undergo would be sweet; and. In the
serenity of conscious happiness, I could
look down upon a crowned empress,
and proudly refuse to exchange my lot
for hers. As your wife, 1 should be 1
gentle, and loving, and good; humbly
returning thanks to Almighty God for
the blessings showered upon me, and
hopefully looking forward to the future
as a state of blissful regeneration.
What I may be now, let those answer
who have made dissipation a necessity,
and excitement of every kind a respite
from torture. But whatever may be
my fate, let me at least have the consolation
of knowing that you are going
on undauntedly to the fulfillment of a
glorious destiny. Up to this time every
returning ship has brought tidings
of your growing fame?tidings that to
me were more welcome than gales
freighted with the spices of Arabia.
Let your remembrance of me nerve you
to sterner exertion, rather than sink
you to despondency. Courage and genius
never had a nobler field. Press on
in your high career; and when trampled
millions shake their chains in glad
rejoicings at your success, I shall feel
that I did right to worship the hero
whose sword struck the living waters
of freedom from the rock of tyranny,
and vindicated man's Inherent right to
live to labor, to love, and to adore,
when, and where, and how, the soul In
Its untrammeled intelligence should
direct.
"Farewell! In this cold world we
shall never meet again. I do not tell
you to forget me, for I know that is
Impossible. No matter what grief may
overshadow me, no matter what sin or
shame may degrade me, I know that
you will love me, and every prayer
that ascends for your own redemption
will be mingled with a fervent aspiration
for the wretched girl who loved
both wisely and well, and yet loved
where it was worse than death to worship."
Alone In his barrack-room, Aaron
Burr read and reread the wild and despairing
confession of the wronged and
Injured girl. The big tears gathered
In his eyes and rolled slowly, very 1
slowly, down his wasted cheek.
"Poor Margaret!" he said, "ours 1
has been a stormy love?rocked by I
wintry winds In Its cradle, and scorched
by blasting lightnings In its prime.
Who would have dreamed that the
meeting of two hearts so young, so lov- (
Ing, so fitted for each other, could have
engendered the mighty woes that have 1
scarred and blackened both! What 1
had we done to be marked out as the '
victims of a curse more terrible than
that wtylch the rebellious angels drag- (
?ed down on themselves? We met 1
each other and we loved. If that
meeting were a sin, it was not ours.
We did not plan It. I knew not of your 1
existence, and if you had ever heard 1
my name, It was coupled witn tne
?plthet of traitor. Well do I remember
the first time I saw you! Well do I 1
remember how you nestled to the pro- 1
tectlng side of Mrs. Putnam, and 1
glanced at my uniform as at a badge
it infamy. The flush of health and the I
tfloom of Innocence were on your cheek, 1
ind when that short visit ended, I was
i captive for eternity. Was that 1
guilt? It was not so esteemed In Par
idise, when the enraptured Adam (
tvaked from his long repose and knelt '
In trembling ecstasy at the feet of his
new-made Eve. It was not so esteemed
when Jesus, on his pilgrimage 1
)f atonement, whispered forgiveness In 1
the ears of Mary Magdalene, because :
she loved much.' Why should the same 1
thing which wiped out. the remem- 1
orance of her sins bring sorrow and
tears to us? Oh, how little do we 1
know! how less than little do we unlerstand
of the purpose that placed us 1
nere, and drag us on, blind and poweress
through the fretful years of a
troubled existence! How poor and 1
iveak Is that 'free will* of which we
noast! how dim and undefined the narrow
boundaries of Its power! Blown 1
lbout by every passion, yielding to ev- 1
?ry temptation?the sport of circumstance
and the tool of chance?what is 1
eft to our own choice? what Is reguated
as we could wish? Free will, in- '
> > T_ ?r , fraa (
Itru; la maisain iuuiici iciic *> vv
*'hen she knowingly crushes ever*. J
)!oom of happiness and walks with open 1
^yes to a living grave? Was I free In '
hat hour when I forgot that she was
he daughter of my country's foe, and '
*nelt and worshiped at her feet? Am '
[ free now? Can I tear her Image 1
'rom my heart of hearts??forget her 1
ove; forget her grief; forget what she
las already borne; and steel myself (
igalnst that which she must still en- '
lure? Can I do this, and live? Oh, '
to! I can bear disease, and pain, and
toverty, and foul suspicion; I can
struggle on even under the maddening
Knowledge that her head is pillowed on '
mother breast than mine; but I can- 1
tot bear to forget?I dare not cease to '
ove. I know not what Is before me; 1
tut I know that when I am called upon
o embark in the shadowy ship that 1
.vaits for passenger souls by the shore
)f time, I shall carry with me a love
:hat has known no change or abate- '
nent from that moment when our lips'
turning vows were sealed and sanctl- J
led by our hearts' enraptured assent. (
[ shall go on, silent and uncomplaining,
ind seemingly contented as the other
ivorms about me; but there will be an
nward longing, a slakeless thirst, for
which ambition has no cure and ex- |
iltement no relief; a hopeless gangrene
>f the soul, rotting and festering until
the confines of life are reached and 1
the freed spirit shakes off the dust but
not the memories of earth.
"'Pity me!' you say, Margaret. God
knows, I have deep need of sympathy
for myself! but not so great as yours;
ind all that an overburdened heart has
to bestow is freely, fully given, 'Do
not scorn me!'?Not I! though you
were stained all over with crimes and 1
rices as black as those that disgraced
the foulest daughter of the Medici. I
should only mourn that man had the
power to convert an angel of light into 1
in erring, wicked thing; and shudder
it the Inscrutable Justice that slumbers 1
vvniie me ministers ui neu are lununue
i child of God into crime. Scorn you!
What right has any mortal man to 1
wear that word upon his lips? Tempt
him in the height of his power and the
pride of his wealth offer him some
glittering bauble that he thinks beyond
his affections, bruise him, trample on
him, and what does he become? A
vile and loathsome thing, wallowing in
crime and fattening on corruption. 1
How dare he talk of scorn for the sins
of another, whose own are mountain
high, and whom it needs but a breath
of temptation to bloat with infamy!
Yet it may well be, Margaret, that you
will feel that sting from those who are
more guilty than you are. It may well
be that the tyranny of opinion will
drive you from indiscretion into crime,
and then judge you according to that
hollow-hearted humanity which looks
only at the fruits, and makes no allowance
for the seasons that produce them.
Yours is a terrible ordeal. God grant
that you may pass through it not ut
terly blasted! But whether pride and
power, or shame and sin shall cluster
about you, there Is one heart which
will cling to you, and throb, through
every mutation of fortune and of fame,
with a love as undying as your own."
The solitary candle on his camp table
flickered In the socket?a few fitful
flashes and It was gone; the red light
of the fire burned low and dim: but
there he sat rigid and stony, until the
sound of the morning reveille roused
him to life and consciousness again.
TO BE CONTINUED.
tv If a man asks a candid opinion
from a friend and gets It, It makes
him mad.
tf Some people Invariably get the
worst of It, because they are always
demanding the best of It.
SOOTH CUOMO
_TI
How the Spirit of Liberty
Unconquerii
x>x? mx' w<kii i.'irr
Prom the Yorkvllle Enquirer of 1876.
INSTALLMENT XV.
Battle of Williamson's, or Capt. Huck'a
Defeat.
So soon as the facts concerning the
fall of Charleston reached the up-country.
the Tories laid aside all disguise
and began boldly to plunder in bands.
To Inspire these loyalists with greater
courage and to Incite them to acts of
greater daring, the British stationed
numbers of soldiers In different sections
of the state. We have seen that
the Whigs of that part of North Carolina
bordering on South Carolina were
thoroughly aroused. On the 20th of
June, 1780, Col. Locke engaged Moore
apd Welch at Ramsour's mill and discomfited
them.
Tarleton's cruelty at Waxhaw kindled
into a flame the gpatriotlsm of all
the region round about Charlotte,
North Carolina. It had the same effect
upon the Scotch-Irish of Fairfield,
Chester and York counties. South Carolina,
Few If any of the Scotch-Irish
of the territory embraced In these
counties, were paroled as prisoners,
and none of them took British protection.
Many of them left their homes
and sought refuge with kindred spirits
In less exposed regions. At different
points the Tories had begun to collect
as early as the latter part of May.
They were a set of plundering thieves,
utterly unfit to add strength or give
dignity to any government; but fully
competent to give great annoyance to
all good citizens.
On the 24th of May, 1780, Capt. John
McLure, with a few of his Whig neighbors
attack Houseman, a Tory cap
Lain, at Beckhamvllle, Cheater county,
and routed him and his band. Two
[Jays after C'apts. Bratton and McLure
attacked a similar band at Mobley's
Meeting House, on Little river, Fairfield
county. These bold attacks on the
Tories aroused the British and they
Jetermlned to avenge the blood of their
Tory friends.
At this time Col. Turnbull was In
command of a British post at Rocky
Mount. To chastise the patriots for
nast acta of daring, and to keep them
In awe In the future, Col. Turnbull sent
>ut Captain Huck with two hundred
British regulars,'one hundred dragoons,
ane hundred mounted Infantry and
about five hundred Tories?In all near
ane thousand men. Capt. Huck's headciujfc-ters
was for soim time in the
nslshteoshoog of what is now Alexander
Wllll/ord's mill, on Fishing creek
in Chester county.
Capt. Christian Huck was a Tory, a
lawyer and by birth a native of Philadelphia.
The most remarkable feature
in his character was that he was a
most blasphemously profane swearer.
From this encampment on Fishing
creek, Huck sent out plundering and
burning parties dally In all directions.
In Huck's command was a man by the
name of Ferguson, a colonel of the
Tory militia. Most of the plundering
was assignea 10 mis omcer. rne nouses
nf the Whigs for miles ail around, were
plundered and not a few of the houses
yf those who were regarded as prominent
Whigs, were burned; and Ferguson
and his men went so far as even
to shoot down. In cold blood, unoffending
citizens. On Sabbath morning, the
11th of June, Capt. Huck sent a party
nf' men to Fishing creek church of
which the Rev. John Simpson was pastor.
Huck had two grudges against the
Rev. Simpson and his congregation.
The one was because Mr. Simpson had
been prominent in planning the attack
by McLure upon Houseman at "Beckbamvllle.
For the encouragement he
<ave Capt. John McLure, Huck and
Ferguson determined that Mr. Simpson
should be punished severely. The oth?r
grudge that these officers had
igalnst the Rev. Simpson and his congregation.
was that they were Presbyterians
and continued to sing in worship
to God the same version of the
Psalms used by the Scotch. So great
was the hatred of these men to the
5r>ntoh trarmlatlnn nf thp Psalms, that
they went through the country and
consigned to the flames every Bible
which contained the Scotch metrical
version of the Psalms. The object of
the visit of the British to Fishing Creek
church on the 11th of June was to
burn church, pastor and people all together.
On arriving at the church
they found no one there. Either there
was to be no preaching there that day,
or the congregation, for prudential reasons,
had assembled at some other
point. The disappointment of the
plunderers was great, but they determined
not to be outdone. The house
of the pastor was but a short distance
from the church. On they went to his
house. He was not at home; he had
gone on Friday to Join Sumter at
Clem's branch. So soon as Mrs. Simpson
saw them coming she took her
four children, and as well as she could,
concealed herself and her children In
the orchard. The British entered the
house, first plundered it of everything
they wanted, and took out the beds and
ripped them open, throwing away the
feathers and taking the ticks. This
done the dwelling house and pastor's
study were set on fire. and away they
went. On the same Sabbath morning
they found a pious young man by the
name of William Strong, quietly reading
his Bible. He, Ferguson, either In
person or by his direction, shot. The
mother of Capt. John McLure, a widow,
lived in the same community. Her
house these Tories also burned. Sometime
before this, perhaps about the
first of June, a party having been sent
out on one of these plundering and
burning expeditions had burned one of
Col. William Hill's Iron works on Allison
creek, York county, S. C. On
their way to accomplished this deed,
they burned the barn of Mr. Simril
and perpttrated other foul and wicked
deeds. The country for many miles all
around Union church, was constantly
full of these plunderers.
At this time, Oen. Sumter was at
Clem's branch, in the upper corner of
Lancaster county. His place of rendezvous
became known to the refugees
from the upper section of South Carolina.
To him they flocked, and It was
HSRBmVTHHI
r Was Kept Alive By an
ble People.
r LATIIAN, 1>. D.
not long until the nucleus of a little
army was formed.
On the west side of the Catawba,
the patriots were not idle. Edward
Lacey, John McLure, William Bratton
John Mills and many others were busily
engaged in gathering up the patriots
of York and Chester counties.
The patriots readily joined these men
and It was only a short time until four
hundred men were ready for service.
These were at this time nearly all the
fighting men In the two counties. It
was now determined to drive Huck
and Ferguson from the county. About
the time that Laeey, Bratton and McLure
determined to drive Huck's forces
from the Fishing creek region. Cols.
Hill and Neil were sent over the Catawba,
to beat up recruits for Sumter's
army, then forming on Clem's branch.
When Hill and Neil heard that Bratton,
Lacey and McLure had determined
to attack Huck and Ferguson, they
at once concluded to join in with these
patriots. Hill and Neil had one hundred
and thirty-three men. A junction
was formed and the united forces
amounted to more than five hundred
men. It was determined to attack
Huck and Ferguson during the night
of the 11th of July at White's, now
Wllllford's mill. It was concerted that
Captain McLure and a party under
him, should be sent out during the day
to reconnoitre and that the whole force
should be In the neighborhood before
dark. About sundown all arrived
within a few hundred yards of the mill
and having tied their horses in the
woods, without any commander, ar
ranged themselves into platoons of six
and commenced to march for Huck's
camp. Just at this moment the first
platoon, in which was Lacey, was met
by McLure and his reconnoiterlng party,
who told them that Huck had decamped
during the day, and had gone
to what is now Brattonviile, ten miles
south of Yorkville. A consultation was
held by the leading spirits, and it was
determined to follow Huck and Ferguson
and attack them that night as
they were distant only about fifteen
miles. The word was given, "March,
to your horses." Some of those who
had not learned that the enemy was
gone, supposing that the command
"march, to your horses" meant retreat
rushed with all possible speed to their
horses, and uo great was the effect upon
the mtmft Vf-one hundred an?f fifty
that having mounted their horses, they
never stopped till they reached Charlotte,
Ncrth Carolina. So soon as the
facts in the case were learned, everything
became quiet and another consultation
was held. It was again determined
to make an attack upon the
British and Tories before morning.
They had only three hundred and fifty
men. They set out on Huck's trail and
had no difficulty In following It. Col.
Lacey's father lived only a few miles
from Bratton's where it was thought
fim.1 A?nnmnA<l A nro O
I.lie: riiriuj' ciiLaiu^u. na r* ao uui
uncommon In the Revolutionary war,
old Laeey was an uncoepromlsing loyalist,
and so was his son, Reuben; but
his son Edward was as uncompromising
a Whig. Edward Lacey knew that
his father, If he learned that the Whigs
were about to attack the British would
be sure to go to the British camp and
announce the fact. To prevent this,
Edward Lacey sent a detail of four
men to guard his father until morning,
and as he knew his father to be both a
shrewd and determined man, he gave
them permission to tie him. The guard
finding that the old man could be controlled
In no other way did actually tie
him and thus prevented him from frustrating
the plans of his son and the
other patriots.
Having arrived In the neighborhood
of Bratton's, Col. Edward Lacey and
Capt. John Mills, the grandfather of
Thomas S. Mills of Chestervllle, were
-ent out to learn the exact position of
the enemy's camp. They learned that
Reuben Lacey, the brother of Col. Edward
Lacey, had gone the evening before
to the British camp. Edward
knew lhat his brother was an early
riser and that he would be certain to
return home In the morning before
daylight. The two scouts, Mills and
I.acey placed themselves near by the
road which they knew Reuben Lacey
would be obliged to travel In returning
home. Here they waited quietly
his return. Edward .Lacey was right
in his conjecture. Before day, Reuben
came along. He was blind of one eye,
and what was somewhat remarkable
he rode a horse that was blind of one
eye, and he had a dog that was blind
of one eye. This dog followed him
everywhere he went. So soon as blind
Reuben, on his blind horse, followed by
his blind dog, came nearly opposite to
the place occupied by Edward Lacey
and John Mills, he was accosted by
Mills, in a feigned voice, with the demand
"Who comes there?"
"A friend."
"A friend of whom?"
"Of the British."
"So are we; where Is the camp?"
"At Williamson's, two miles ahead."
"Where are the sentinels posted?"
"One Is north of Williamson's on the
road, at the branch; another is half
way between Bratton's and William
son's; one about one hundred yards
south of Williamson's house; and another
is east of Williamson's, towards
the creek."
This was all that the scouts desired
to know. They bid blind Reuben Lacey
good morning and hastened to communicate
the important information to
their comrades. The plan of attack was
soon determined on. The whole force
was divided into two divisions; one to
be led by Bratton and Nell and the
other to be led by Edward Lacey. Bratton
and Neil were to lead their men up
the road which passed by Williamson's
house, whilst Lacey was to lead his
men down the same road. The divisions
were to meet at Williamson's.
James Moore understanding the locality,
acted as guide for Lacey. At the
branch the sentinel was found posted,
but was asleep. Samuel Williamson,
the son of James Williamson, at whose
house Huck and Ferguson were en
camped, shot the sentinel down. This
was the first man killed In the fight,
and it occurred on the morning of the
12th of July, 1780. The British and
I Tories undtr Huck and Ferguson, had
on the evening before, come to the
house of Col. William Bratton and ordered
Mrs. Martha Bratton to prepare
supper for them. Mrs. Bratton's first
thought was to prepare them a sumptuous
repast, but to poison the food and
thus exterminate all who might partake
of her dainties. She had the poison
In her house; but when the time
came to make use of It, she refrained
from the desperate act; lest she might
do more harm than good.
Whilst supper was preparing. Huck
nursed John Bratton, the father of a
large family, many of whom are residents
of York county. Huck asked
Mrs. Bratton where her husband was?
She replied, "In Sumter's army." Huck
told her if she would send for him and
induce him to join the British, he
should have a commission in the regular
army." This offer Mrs. Bratton
treated with Indignity, telling him she
would rather her husband would fight
the British and Tories than to fight
with or for them. Huck became enraged
and dashed the child from his
knees, and an ill-bred soldier, seized a
sickle which was near by, and with it
was about to cut the throat of the
brave woman. He was only prevented
from perpetrating this savage deed by
the officer second in command to Huck.
After supper, their camp was formed
at Williamson's, less than half a mile
from Bratton's. The road ran by Williamson's
house on the east. The
house and yard were fenced up. The
British and Tories were inside of this
enclosure. Just as day began to dawn,
the patriots began the attack on the
north and east of the house. They
were only about seventy-five yards
from where the British and Tories were
lying, sound asleep in their tents. It
was a complete surprise. They suspected
no harm. When the firing first
commenced, Huck woke up, but thought
It was only some strangling patriots
who had stolen in upon his camp and
that the whole thing would be over as
soon as the British regulars poured in
one volley. With the impression on his
mind, he turned over to finish his
morning nap. Stilt the firing continued.
In haste he arose from his bed,
put on his shoes and pants and ran out
without a coat and commenced to rtde
back and forward along his fine.
Thomas Carroll, who lived and died on
Toole's fork, near the present residence
of Dr. Calvin P. Sandifer, seeing him
and regarding him aB of more than ordinary
importance rested his gun in
the fork of a plum tree, saying to his
companions near by: "I am going to
try that fellow on horseback in his
shirt sleeves, and if I kill him you will
know It, for I have two balls In my
gun." He fired, the man fell and after
the .battle was over, Huck was found
dead with two bullet holes in his head
one a short distance -above the
other.
Before Huck rose from his bed, Ferguson
had attempted to drive the patriots
away by the bayonet, but he failed.
They fought behind the fence,
which surrounded the house, and were
not exposed. Ferguson and his British
regulars were forced to give way before
the murderous fire of the patriots.
So soon as it was learned by the British
and Tories that Huck had fallen,
they became confused. The patriots
were not long In making this discovery
and the command was given: "Boys
take the fence and every man his own
commander!" No sooner was the order
given than it was executed. Over
me lence me VYinga icapcu anu
In a moment, right among the Brltleh
and Tories. The cry for quarters soon
became universal. Even Ferguson
raised his voice and pleaded for mercy.
This could not be granted, because It
was known that either by him or by
his orders, William Strong was shot in
his own house on the 11th of June.
Ferguson was killed on the spot. The
British and Tory force was scattered
to the winds. Near forty were left on
the battle ground, amongst which number
was the profane Huck and the
cruel Ferguson. About nrty were
wounded; at least fifty were found
wounded on the battle field and others
wounded, fled but afterwards perished
In the woods. How many were taken
prisoners Is not known; but the officer
second In command was amongst the
number and his life was spared on account
of the entreaties of Mrs. Bratton,
whose life he had saved on the
previous evening. The conflict lasted
about one hour; and strange to say
only one Whig, whose name was Camphell,
was killed.
On the evening of the battle, whilst
at Bratton's house, Capt. Huck sent
James McRanell, Thomas Clendenin,
Robert Bratton, Charles Curry and
John Moore?all old men?to a crib
there to be guarded during the night.
When the battle began, the old men
rose upon their guard and when John
Moore, Jr., went during the fight, to
release the old men. he found them
guarding the guard which had been
placed over them.
The wounded British and Tories
were sent to the houses of the loyal
families in the neighborhood and waited
upon by Dr. Turner, who resided in
the community.
The sword of Huck fell to the lot of
Thomas Carroll. No doubt he received
this as a reward for having killed the
vile swearer. In his old age, Thomas
Carroll became very much doted. One
of the strange acts of his old age was,
even when he was near ninety-five
years old, to buckle on the sword of
Huck, and by the assistance of his
sons, John and Joseph, mount a fine
black horse, which he owned, and flourish
his sword as If he was a military
captain in the bloom of youth.
Immediately before the battle .commenced,
Col. Bratton, knowing his
house was on the battle ground, and
t|iat his family would be exposed to
the li.e from the Whigs as well as the
British, desired to go and Inform his
wife that she might protect herself
and family. Col. Lacey, who was a
most Impetuous creature, and at the
some time a powerful man, physically,
swore that If he dared to do such a
thing, it might frustrate all the plans
i of the Whigs, and he would run his
i sword through him If he attempted
such a thing.
Bratton did not go to Inform his wife
of her danger; but when the firing
( commenced, Mrs. Bratton placed her
, little son in the chimney as a place of
i safety. A ball struck the opposite Jamb
and bounded back. This the little fellow
secured as a keep sake.
The house in which Col. Bratton was
living is still standing. It is said the
timbers still contain bullets that were
shot at the time of the battle. It is
stHl owned by a descendant of CoL
William Bratton.
The battles of Ramsour's Mill and
Williamson's were productive of great
good to the cause of the Whigs. They
stopped, at least for a time the plundering
of the Tories and taught the patriots
that they might dare to meet
British regulars.
It would be interesting to see a full
list of the names of those who were at
the battle of Williamson's and Huck's
defeat. This might once have been secured.
It is now too late. We give below
the names of the actors on that
memorable morning, that we have been
able to gather up. As there was really
no commanding officer, but each man
was his own commander, and as numbers
of tne individuals distinguished
themselves during the war and were
promoted, we give simply the names
without any title:
Jorn McLure, James McLure, Wll
liam Bratton, Hugh Bratton, Thomas
Bratton, Thomas C&rroll, John Moffett.
John Nixon. James Moore, James
Hemphill, James Mitchell, John McConneil,
John Chambers, Jan. Wallace,
WUllam Guy, Andrew Love, Chas.Curry,
John Kldd, Alexander Moore,
Wm. Moore, John Moore, and his four .
sons, John, Samuel WUllam and Nathan,
Robert Howie, David Leech,
John Carson, William Hanna,. James
Hanna, William Davidson, Edward EAcey,
John Mills, William Burris, Richard
Wynn, -John Miller, John Swann,
James Ross, William Ross, Charles
Miles Robert Ashe, James McElwee,
John Smith, . Peter Wylle,, Robert
Brown, Thomas Rainey, Samuel Ralney,
Benjamin Rainey, j Francis Wylle,
Joseph Gaston, Samuel Kelsey, James
Adair, Wm. Adair, John McCaw, Wm.
Lewis, John Martin, John Dennis,
Thomas Boggs, David Sadler, G. Jam-,
eison, John Barry, WUllam Carson,
John Wallace,' Henry Ray, James Gill,
Thomas Gill, Arthur GUI, John Carroll,
John Williamson, Adam Williamson,
Samuel Williamson, George Williamson
and James WUUamson. all sons of Jas.
Williamson, at whose house the British
and Tories were encamped.
TO BS OOHTINUBD.
TILLMAN UNJUST TO LYON.
What Ons of the Senator's Newspaper
Supporters Thinks of the Ineident.
Mr. Tillman in his speech in Co*
lumbia last Monday was bitterly per
sonal in his reference to Mr. J. Fraser
Lyon. The arrangement of fact, and
argument on the same is fair and
legitimate as long ag parliamentary
usages are observed and as long aa
the civility which usually governs
gentlemen is present. The questions
at issue should be settled by the
showing of facts and not by use of
abusive terms. There is no use for
anybody to assail Mr. Lyon's character
before an audience which knows
him.
The Press and Banner knows his
character is good, and nobody l>e!leves
that he would knowingly make a
statement which was not in accord
with the facts.
Mr. Tillman Is perhaps the greatest
man that South Carolina has ever
sent to Washington. His hands are
clean, and nobody doubts his integrity.
The state of South Carolina
loves him and honors him.
Mr. Lyon Is a young man at the
verv threshold of a useful and hon
orable career. The people of hia
native county honored him with a
seat In the house of representatives,
the house of representatives honored
him by placing him on the Investigating
committee. In the discharge
of unpleasant duties he has no doubt
Incurred ill will 'In some Instances,
and on the other hand. If he is not
proud' of the words of pralae and
commendation that have been given
to him he is more or less than a man.
To be pleased at the evidences of approval
that have come to him is natural.
Such pleasure furnishes no ground
on the part of any man to seek to destroy
him by efforts to ruin his reputation.
An impartial jury would hardly say
that the offensive expressions were
either deserving or becoming.
Mr. Tillman Is a man old enough
to be the father of Mr. Lyon. He
occupies as high a position with the.
people as was ever held by any man.
As an old man, as a great and well
mon a a thn HiaHntnilflhorl
niiuu ii man, mv
senator at Washington, It would
hardly be a commendable act to seek
to ruin an honorable young man.
This, too, in the absence of the victim
of his wrath, when he could not
defend himself. The differences in
their physical powers and their ages
would preclude the possibility of his
resenting it.
Surely Mr. Tillman is able to take
care of himself without taking advantage
of another.
In the cause of Justice and fair play
we protest against Mr. Tillman's unparliamentary
attack upon Mr. Lyon.
As the readers of the Press and
Banner know we are a friend to Senator
Tillman. We are supporting him
and defending the dispensary against
all comers and against all attacks.
Mr. Lyon is our neighbor, and if his
views on the dispensary coincided
with the views of this editor we would
vote for him against the world. He
proposes to interfere with the state
dispensary, for this reason alone we
are not supporting him in his race.
But in all conscience, we must pro
test at the cruel and unbecoming attack
which Mr. Tillman has made upon
him. Mr. Lyon does not deserve
the treatment which has been accorded
to him by Mr. Tillman. And Mr.
Tillman in his better moments will
admit his errors.?Abbeville Press
and Banner.
Mhoicike.?Throw out opium, said
Dr. Holmes, which the Creator himself
seems to prescribe, for we often see the
scarlet poppy growing in the cornfields,
as if It were foreseen that wherever
there Is hunger to be fed there must
also be pain to be soothed; throw out a
few specifics which our art did not discover
and Is hardly needed to apply;
throw out wine, which is a food and the
vapors which produce the miracle of
anaesthesia, and I firmly believe that
if the whole materia medlca as now
used could be sunk to the bottom of
the sea It would be all the better foi
mankind and all the worse for the
fishes.
The shortest system of medical prac
tice that I know or is tne oiaesi, qui.
not the worst. It Is older (than Hippocrates,
older than Chiron the Centaur.
Nature taught It to the first
mother when she saw'her firstborn
child putting some ugly pebble or lurid
berry Into Its mouth. I know not In
what language it was spoken, but I
know that In English It would sound
thus: "Spit It out!"
M
tv No man Is as dangerous as his
threats.
i